


Bleeding

by bev_crusher1971



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Episode Related, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Spoilers for 2x13 "Exit Wounds"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 11:25:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3172536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bev_crusher1971/pseuds/bev_crusher1971
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Had Ianto ever cried? In all those nights, Jack cried his heart out to Ianto, had he ever shared this grief?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleeding

"The end is where we start from."

Again and again, Gwen heard these words in her dreams, saw Jack's tearstained face when she bolted upright in her bed in the middle of the night. Rhys was sleeping next to her, his arm reaching out for her, offering safety even in sleep. 

Many nights she had cried herself to sleep in Rhys' arms. Had been drawing strength from his unwavering love. Had been able to let herself fall, secure in the knowledge that Rhys would catch her. Always catch her. 

But more often then not she'd startle awake in the night, seeing once more Tosh's deadly wound. Hearing her last words echoing in her head. Those were the nights she couldn't stay in bed. Quietly, she got dressed, gave Rhys a quick peck on the cheek, and walked out into the dark night. 

For hours she walked the quiet streets of Cardiff. Most of the time they were empty; every now and then she met a late-home-comer or an early riser, but after a few days she knew how to avoid those people. She needed the silence. The complete and utter silence. No crickets to be heard, no night birds singing. Just the quiet click-click of her heels was audible. 

The first time she walked through the city like this, she ended up before the door to the travel agency behind which Torchwood was hidden. Without thinking or hesitating, she entered, walked along the hall and waited for the big, round door to open in front of her. She expected to be alone with only Myfanwy – who eyed her with his head cocked slightly for company. 

When she heard a noise from Jack's office, she quickly made her ways upstairs, and gently shoved the door open. 

Ianto was sitting in Jack's chair. Jack knelt on the floor between his legs, his arms around Ianto's waist, crying heartbreakingly. Between two sobs, she could make out some mumbled words, too quiet for her to understand them. But Ianto did. In a calming gesture he caressed with his right hand Jacks dark hair, while the other was wrapped around Jack's shoulder. His head was bowed, and he was whispering softly in Jack's ear. 

Then he seemed to sense her presence. He raised his head a bit, and gazed at her. Feeling helpless, she simply reciprocated this gaze. Then he shrugged a little, and mouthed, "It's okay. I’ve got him."

She nodded, and with one last look to Jack she left his office, left the hub, and walked back into the night. 

The next morning, the two men behaved like nothing had happened, and she didn't mention it. She wasn't even sure Jack had realised that she'd been there.   
It was in the third week that she noticed a change in Ianto's behaviour. It was to be expected because the events of that night and the death of two close friends had inevitably changed all of them. But while Jack slowly seemed to return to his usual charming self, Ianto got increasingly absentminded. Nervous. More than once, Gwen found him standing somewhere in the hub, staring into nothingness. And when she addressed him, she had the feeling that just his self composure seemed to prevent him from screaming. 

"Ianto? You alright?"

A smile appeared on his face. "I'm fine, Gwen. Thank you. I ... ah ... I just have been thinking about something."

But she could see that the smile didn't reach his eyes. She began to worry though she had no idea how she could help him. 

It was a talk with Rhys that finally put her on the right track. They were sitting on the couch, cuddled up together after dinner, when he sighed deeply. 

"I'm worried, Gwen," he murmured softly. 

She turned half around to face him. "Worried? About whom?"

He reached down and put his hand into the bag of crisps that was in her lap, and continued to stare at the television. "About Annie. Jamie got ... he died in that night and she behaves as if nothing ever happened."

She remained silent, sensing that Rhys wasn't quite finished with what he wanted to tell her. And she was right. Once more his hand dove into the crisp bag but this time his gaze found hers and held it. "She's not mourning. She comforts all the others but she herself doesn't mourn. I doubt she ever cried. Not even at his funeral."

The gaze returned to the TV screen. "Not that there would have been a lot to bury in the first place. But she's not crying. Not once. It's scary."

It's scary. 

Scary. She thought back on everything that had happened. And suddenly a thought flashed up in her head. Had Ianto ever cried? In all those nights, Jack had cried his heart out to Ianto, had the young man ever shared his grief?

He had become so strong. So reliable. Everyone leaned on him. Jack. She, Gwen, herself. Who was there for Ianto? Who held him tight when he cried because everything became too much to bear? 

Gwen leaned over to Rhys, and gave him a kiss. "Thanks, Rhys. I have to go."

Surprised, Rhys looked up from his BBC Special Report when she jumped up and put on her shoes. 

"What? Why? And where to?"

She slipped on her jacket, and gave him another kiss. "For telling me about Annie and Jamie. Now I know what's wrong with Ianto."

Before Rhys could even think about a reply, she was gone. 

~*~

Ianto was in the hub. That in itself wasn't too surprising. He had spent many nights there in the past few weeks. 

Especially the nights. 

He was sitting on Owen's place, staring at the black computer screen. Gwen approached him carefully. 

"Ianto?"

He startled and turned to her. "Gwen!" She could hear the surprise in his voice. "What are you doing here? Is there an emergency? Why didn't Jack ..."

She interrupted him. "No, Ianto. There is no emergency. I ... I was looking for you."

He frowned. "For me? Why? And you know that you could have just called, right?"

Right. She could have done that. But that would have been not personally enough. And to be honest ... it wouldn't have helped. But now that she was here, she found herself suddenly speechless. To simply say, 'Hey, come on, you can cry on my shoulder,' sounded good in her head but looking into Ianto's blue eyes she knew it wouldn't work. 

Slowly she walked closer, took Tosh's chair and pushed him closer to Ianto. He eyed it as if it was a dangerous animal. A bit hesitantly, she sat down. 

"Ianto, I ... I don't know where to start."

She moved a little forward, rested her elbows on her knees and folded her hands in front of her. She had to start three times before she finally said, "Did you ever cry, Ianto?" He opened his mouth but before he could say something she continued, "Not in general. But since that night."

The mouth closed again. 

"Why do you want to know that?" he finally asked, sounding tired. 

"I ... I have seen you and Jack. The way he cried in your arms. I have Rhys and God knows how many times he had me crying in his arms. You comforted me more than once in the last few weeks when I was short to giving up. Who comforts you, Ianto? Who's holding you when you're crying?"

Ianto turned his chair a bit so he hadn't to look into her eyes anymore. "My father always told me, real men don't cry."

Gwen cursed vividly inside. That explained a lot. Slowly, she moved even closer. "Jack's not a real man, then?"

Ianto's head turned around, and he glared at her, his eyes narrowed. "How dare you say that?"

She smiled, unimpressed by his glare. "If Jack can cry and still be a real man ... why can't you?"

His eyes widened slightly when he realized that she had tricked him. Gently, she put a hand on his arm. "They are dead, Ianto. And nothing will bring them back. Tosh and Owen won't return. No matter what we do ... they are gone forever. And we have to go on. I don't know exactly how but we *have* to go on. We can't do that when you snap someday. Mourn, Ianto. Just once. Let it all out."

Finally, she saw a single tear shimmering in his eyes. He swallowed, and whispered, "I'm afraid, Gwen."

She cocked her head slightly. "What are you afraid of, Ianto?" she asked equally as quiet. 

"That I can't stop crying once I start."

The tear slowly rolled down his cheek. "Oh, Ianto," she murmured, got up and embraced him. She felt his arms closing around her waist, his face hiding on her chest. And a mighty shiver ran through his body. 

"I ... I miss them so much, Gwen", he sobbed, and she could feel the dam breaking. His grief came with the unleashed power of a hurricane. The tears he'd held back all those weeks, came in a rush, breaking down his self erected barricades. 

Ianto mourned. 

Finally. 

Gwen held him tightly as he yelled out loud in his pain and then again clung shuddering to her. After almost two hours, the tears slowly subsided. The anger about Gray and John and fate turned into pain about the loss of two friends. She found herself propped up against a wall, with Ianto resting half on top of her, almost sitting in her lap, his arms still wrapped tightly around her waist. Gently, she stroked his back, and pressed a kiss to his tear streaked cheek. After a while his breathing evened out, and with a deep sigh he fell asleep in her arms. 

She rocked him gently when she noticed a slight movement out of the corner of her eye. 

Jack stood in his office's door. He had his usual confident posture, with his hands buried in his pockets, but she could detect a suspicious shimmer in his eyes. She smiled at him, and he reciprocated the smile. 

Slowly, he came closer, bent down next to her, and tenderly stroked Ianto's hair. The younger man snuffled slightly in his sleep, moving into the caress before settling down again. 

"Thank you, Gwen," Jack said quietly. "I knew something was wrong. But I didn't know how to fix it. How to help him."

She reached for his hand, and held it tight. "We have to stick together, Jack. Because we are all that's left. Everything that remains of Torchwood."

He nodded, and squeezed her hand gently. "Yes, we are."

With a sigh he sat down next to her, and together they watched over Ianto's sleep. 

End


End file.
